


Burning the World

by Ainsleigh_Pauline (orphan_account)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe, Anger, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, Death, F/M, Falling In Love, Love, Multi, Other, Revenge, Robb and Catelyn never die, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Ainsleigh_Pauline
Summary: In which Petyr vows to burn the world for Sansa...she need only ask.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He had not viewed this pretty creature as Catelyn in many moons, not only was Sansa more beautiful than his childhood love had or ever would be, she was softer in ways Catelyn had never been and yet Sansa had this beautiful, yet kind armor that she expertly wore in the face of grave danger...she had once been a girl who thought the world was fair and just, believing all the fairytales that her parents had been cruel to let her succumb too; his desire for Catelyn had long since dried up into a childish whim as a real passion grew for this girl who laid breathing deeply as she fell into a comatose sleep... he would let the world burn for this girl and laugh whilst everyone screamed, Sansa would have the world at her feet...





	1. beginning

The wind blew lightly which made her red tendrils of hair gently tickle against her cheek, usually it would bothered her endlessly, but today was her nephew’s first nameday and like every day, since learning of the babes birth, she found herself sat in her window sill as she overlooked the rose garden with furrowed brows and a heavy heart; the boy had been named Eddard Stark which had brought tears to her eyes when she had first been informed, though it wasn’t very shocking since it was the sweetest and smartest move her eldest brother could’ve made when his little Frey wife had birthed him an heir. The only note she had ever received had told her that he had a head full of auburn curls with Stark grey eyes, he was a robust babe and had nearly killed the little Frey, but luckily, she had pulled through and both were hale and hearty.... sweet words that had put the final nail in her preverbal coffin.  

Joffrey’s eyes had shone a hateful green as he seethed and lashed out, her body obviously being the easiest means to shower his hate and she had gone to bed that day having been thrown over a guard's shoulder whilst leaving drops of blood throughout the Red Keep as she silently cried tears of joy, hate and pain...for both the King and her brother. That day she had become useless for the Lannister's, her brother lived inside the impenetrable walls of Winterfell and now had a sweet, bouncing heir which meant she had outlived her usefulness...her head would’ve been hanging proudly for all of King’s Landing too see, if not for Queen Margaery stepping in and softly steering Joffrey to marrying her off to a loyal man, one whom been obsessed with her mother and would make Sansa a secret laughing stock amongst high society.  

She had been Lord Petyr Baelish’s wife for three months now and surprisingly...it was a relatively peaceful, though lonely, existence considering her husband was the Master of Coin for the King, owner of a brothel and she could only imagine how many things her husband dabbled in behind closed doors...though husband may be a rather generous word since it was in name only, Sansa still blushed a painful pink whenever she thought back to the wedding night which she spent crying into her new husbands' chest whilst dressed in only a thin shift. She had been thankful that neither deemed it important to revive that painfully awkward moment, he had been dressed and ready to walk out of the door when she awoke with a small pool of blood placed beside her and he gave her one of his un-smiles.... where it didn’t reach his eyes, but either way she had been grateful.  

The two of them lived together in lavish, comfortable rooms kept far from the main areas of the Red Keep, something she was endlessly grateful for since Joffrey seemed too often forget of her existence most days... but she found herself alone usually, Lord Petyr being kept away at his brothel or in counsel which she supposed shouldn't bother her, but as time slowly ticked away, she found herself craving the company of anyone; Petyr always knocking on the back of her mind as the only person she believed she was safe with, now that Margaery was Queen and had alliances elsewhere, Sansa longed for someone to talk with and care. 

*****  

Hours later, she found herself deep in her cups, something she had recently found herself often doing as she attempted to keep away the horrid memories that overtook the moment she closed her eyes and drown out the horrid voices that whispered awful things in her head, awful things of Robb and mother and everyone else who had forgotten about poor, stupid Sansa; she was sprawled out on the red chaise that was in the center of the rooms, in front of the unlit fireplace as the room spun softly around the edges of her vision and soft wind blew through the open windows... every window for a matter of fact, she wanted to relish in the nightly cold winds in an effort to feel an ounce of home. That was how her husband found her, sprawled out on the chaise with her skirts ruffled and bunched around her calves whilst a cup was held precariously in her dainty hands and he was obviously shivering as he closed the door to their rooms.  

“Husband...how kind of you to come home.” She could hear the obvious slur of her words, but she was far past caring for decorum and her tongue was red from wine and loose with biting words. “I was beginning to think you would spend another night in the arms of your whores!”  

Petyr had raised an eyebrow at his inebriated wife as she pushed herself up and off the chaise, her gown rumpled and loose as she stumbled to fill the silver goblet that had tiny mockingbirds etched into the fine material and he slowly removed the black, velvet cloak he wore to fight off the biting breeze after he left work; he silently sighed as he took in his little wife's red cheeks, swollen eyes and purple, wine stained lips as she swayed softly on her tiny feet before she swiveled to face him again as she drank heartily from the cup. He was a smart man, a cunning man, but it didn’t take a genius to understand what had his wife so upset, the newest Winterfell heir had passed another milestone and Sansa wasn’t there, nor could she find it in her tightly, concealed heart to be happy for her family who had long since left her in this cesspool whilst they lived happily in their wintry wonderland.  

“I can assure you, I do not spend my nights in the arms of whores.” His words were soft and soothing, as if talking to a babe which only made Sansa scoff, at his placating tone and denial which she found impossible to believe. 

“Please...I do not warm your bed and you find yourself surrounded by naked women every day, I find it impossible to believe that you do not use them for your own pleasure.”  

“Believe what you want my sweet, but I’ve never bedded nor will I ever bed any of the girls I employee... they are of little use to me if they were in my own bed.” By now he had sat himself in one of the chairs that was nestled in front of the grand, unlit fireplace when his wife's eyes had suddenly flashed a vivid, ugly, angry shade of blue as she threw back the rest of her cup before slamming the silver on the oak table and turning to smile at him...it was sharp and mocking as she slowly made her way towards him. 

“Perhaps you don’t bed them for another reason....” One of his dark eyebrows rose in question, as if asking if she really wanted to continue with this line of thought and whilst sober Sansa would’ve clammed up and scurried to bed, drunk Sansa found herself rising to the silent challenge. “...perhaps you don’t bed them because...they’re nothing like your _sweet, lovely Catelyn_.” Petyr refused to dignify her words with any sort of response or acknowledgement which seemingly only spurred her on. 

She suddenly began to harshly pull off her dress, a fine thing of purple silk that Petyr had given her as a wedding gift, she threw the pretty, soft gown roughly onto the floor until it was merely a crumpled piece of fabric that she stepped on as she crept towards her husband...she was angry, hurt and in turn, wanted to hurt someone else, make him as angry as she felt and perhaps.... just maybe...she would be able to feel anything else other than the bitter hate and anger towards her family. 

“We could blow out the candles and you could have your way with me, the perfect Catelyn replica...close your eyes and just imagine your childhood fantasies coming true then perhaps you’ll tire of me and we can move on from this horrid marriage!” Her usually soft and docile voice had risen two octaves until she was left screaming in their chambers, Petyr swiftly rose from the chair and moved to shake her out of this stupor, but it only made her mad blue eyes shine more vividly as she wriggled against him 

“ _Enough.”_ Petyr squeezed her upper arms in warning as she moved to hike her shift off until she was left standing in only her underthings as kept goading him, the sour scent of wine swirling around the pair as they faced off. “You will stop this at once Sansa!”  

In a matter of seconds her hand met his cheek, his flesh stinging as he looked at her in shock, her red hair mussed and face flushed red in anger as she kept beating against his face and chest while he stood there silently and let her, the anger soon washing off her face as tears trailed down her cheeks and loud sobs echoed throughout the room until Petyr finally wrapped his arms around her, she trashed harshly against him as he gently soothed her as the pair crumbled onto the stone floor.  

*****

It hit Sansa as she laid there cold, nearly naked on the stone floor in her husbands’ arms as fat tears puddle underneath her and the heart wrenching sobs echoed off the walls, did she realize how sad she truly was... how angry.... how alone she felt in this seemingly huge world; Petyr merely held her as she laid her head against his thighs, wetting the expensive fabric, though it would easily be replaced with a simple call for a seamstress.  

“... I do not want to hate them... but I find that I do.” Even saying the words felt like treason, a slight against the sweet memory of her father who would’ve been horrified to hear such terrible words spill from Sansa’s usually sweet lips. 

“I will not think any less of you, hate them if you want... they have forgotten about you, left you to an unknowing fate here whilst they carried on with their lives as they hid behind their name and Keep walls. I see you as Sansa, not Catelyn, _you_ are my wife and are one of my only concerns...I would give you the whole world, if you only asked.”  

Sansa sniffled as she listened carefully to her husband's words, though they sounded a little muddled due to the wine that was causing her head to swirl as she slowly sat up and looked into his eyes, those grey-green eyes that usually swirled with knowing and mischief, now looked at her clear and true...something in all her years of knowing this man, she’d never seen and so, she nodded pitifully as he slowly helped her exhausted body off the floor and towards their four-poster bed that was draped in silver-grey, gauzy curtains and had the softest, feather bed that was dressed in black and silver silk sheets.  

He left her sitting on the bed as he moved to pluck a purple, sleeping shift out of the wardrobe before coming back to stand before her, her arms slowly raising as he slipped the soft shift over her warm, tired, aching body before he pulled back the covers and ushered her under them; her blue eyes heavy as she slowly blinked them closed as Petyr sat on the edge of the bed and watched as she slowly drifted off.  

He had not viewed this pretty creature as Catelyn in many moons, not only was Sansa more beautiful than his childhood love had or ever would be, she was softer in ways Catelyn had never been and yet Sansa had this beautiful, yet kind armor that she expertly wore in the face of grave danger...she had once been a girl who thought the world was fair and just, believing all the fairytales that her parents had been cruel to let her succumb too; his desire for Catelyn had long since dried up into a childish whim as a real passion grew for this girl who laid breathing deeply as she fell into a comatose sleep... he would let the world burn for this girl and laugh whilst everyone screamed, Sansa would have the world at her feet _..._ it was only a matter of time.

 


	2. Across the Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petyr smiled softly as he watched his young wife trail slowly through the gardens below, he often encouraged her to use the gardens as her place of solitude, not only was it usually empty of any courtiers, but it also allowed him to watch undetected from his private solar as she strolled aimlessly through the bushes of roses. He enjoyed watching his wife go about her day, she was such a silent, if not sullen, girl... she would either stroll for hours in the gardens or find a bench to perch upon as she sewed whilst his man, Ser Lothor, stood guard over the extremely precious girl.

There was a slight chill in the air, Sansa had found herself hiding in the rose garden that Queen Margaery and herself had once often frequented as they laughed and giggled quietly about all sorts of things, it was the only time Sansa had felt like a somewhat normal girl since Father’s death and she still cherished those precious moments... Margaery had little time for her now, she was often on the arm of King Joffrey as she whispered into his ear about politics and courtiers, but more importantly she was more concerned with falling pregnant with the next heir. Sansa didn’t begrudge her once friend, if she’d been made to marry Joffrey, she too would have had little time for anyone else other than fretting over getting pregnant and hiding whatever bruises he would’ve bestowed upon her... Margaery of course never had to worry about Joffrey raising his cruel hands against her since Ser Loras would’ve sliced those hands off, for such a slight against his precious sister. 

Though, Sansa did wish for a friend, at this moment she would take even a false one, if only it meant she could at least laugh and pretend for a few moments she was a normal girl of seven and ten, but alas, she only had Petyr and Olina, her only handmaiden that had been gifted to her by Lord Petyr... she was an older woman with a plain face and graying hair, but she had kind hands and a sweet temperament that soothed Sansa’s often frayed nerves. 

Petyr had been up and gone from their rooms by the time Sansa had woken up, the pretty purple dress laid in a forgotten heap and the pounding of her head reminded her of the embarrassing way she had handled herself... Olina had been kind to dress her and leave her with water along with cheese and grapes to sooth her swirling stomach; Lothor Brune had been kind enough to escort her to the gardens once her head no longer ached and her stomach wasn’t churning so violently... the man was silent, though very kind who had some sort of loyalty to Sansa’s husband. Since her marriage to Petyr, Lothor was her silent shadow and followed her anywhere whenever she left the safety of her rooms, his presence was welcoming and like that of Sandor Clegane, the brute of a man who had terrified her yet comforted her all the same, but he had disappeared long ago, and she thought it was best not to dwell on him. 

Sansa found herself rubbing her fingers against the soft rose petals, the roses in various shades and smelled heavenly, she peeked over her shoulder at Ser Lothor who was standing a few steps behind her as his eyes roved over the garden, as if on the lookout for some assassin hidden between the bushes; she found him neither ugly nor handsome, almost in the way her father looked with his hard grey eyes and comely face that sported a thick beard whilst his hair was a nappy mass of grey-brown copped close, his face was square and strong whilst he filled out his armor and stood taller than herself. 

“Ser Lothor, do you happen to have a girl back in the Vale?” Lothor looked towards her and blinked for a moment, obviously thrown off by her random question, but he did give a singular nod before speaking, his voice was gruff and deep, she often found he did not speak often, but when he did, it was true and blunt.

“Ah... I am not married my Lady, but there was a girl whom I thought to be rather... pretty.” Sansa smiled at his words, imagining what sort of woman her guard would find interesting, he certainly never looked upon her with lust nor dark desire as most other men did here, so she imagined he would not be overtly fond of the traditional lady.

“Does this girl have a name?” Once again, he gave a singular nod

“Yes, she went by Mya... she was a simple girl, she did not belong to any noble house nor a lower one.” Sansa gave him a soft smile before turning back to smell the beautiful blooms, a simpler girl she thought, it was sweet to think of her fierce guard as a lovesick man over a simple, pretty girl named Mya.

*****

Petyr smiled softly as he watched his young wife trail slowly through the gardens below, he often encouraged her to use the gardens as her place of solitude, not only was it usually empty of any courtiers, but it also allowed him to watch undetected from his private solar as she strolled aimlessly through the bushes of roses. He enjoyed watching his wife go about her day, she was such a silent, if not sullen, girl... she would either stroll for hours in the gardens or find a bench to perch upon as she sewed whilst his man, Ser Lothor, stood guard over the extremely precious girl. 

He thought back to the previous night and laughed softly to himself, he had never seen Sansa drunk before and thought he would probably never see it again, but it was a rather funny thing, if not for her angry outburst... though he understood, he himself having long since been abandoned by his family along with those he thought to once call family. Eventually, she would no longer wish for Robb or Catelyn Stark to come bursting through the Capital gates and steal her away, back towards her childhood home... once they had completely burned all their bridges with the eldest Stark girl, he would be able to whisk her far away towards Harrenhal, where they would begin their final plans in ridding the world of Joffrey and Cersei.

His head snap towards his door which had suddenly open and in walked the vision that was Queen Margaery, he smiled kindly at the pretty Reach Queen and motioned for her to enter, her chestnut curls were loose across her tan back and her wide, brown eyes shone with secrets... Queen Margaery had been an unexpected ally, Lady Olenna had been an obvious choice, but neither ever expected Margaery to come into the fold fully.

“Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise!” He offered the Queen wine, but she waved it off and instead sat herself in one of the plush chairs opposite his desk and waited for him to sit before she gave him one of her dazzling smiles; those smiles worked wonders on Joffrey, the courtiers and smallfolk alike, but Petyr knew the girl either wanted something or had something of importance to tell him.

“Lord Baelish, I have just discovered the most wonderous news! I thought you, such a close friend of my family and of the Throne, would love to be informed personally, rather than through the announcement that Joffrey is likely to make later today.” 

“Of course, your Grace, I live to serve our benevolent Queen... I am honored to be in such high esteem of you.” She smiled prettily, her plump mouth smirking at the corners in her coy fashion before she straightened and leaned against his oak desk slightly.

“The King and I have just found out we are expecting the future heir of the Iron Throne! Pycelle tells me that I shall give birth to the future King in a mere seven moons, isn’t it fantastic!” Petyr, of course, congratulated her kindly, but they both knew she had come to him with more than just the news of her pregnancy. 

“The King has recently expressed... worry, that you and Lady Sansa have not consummated the marriage; there are no signs of her falling pregnant anytime soon nor much public affection between either of you... our King is beginning to grow anxious and intrigued with her. Now that I will not be permitted to lay with the King any longer, it is only a matter of time before he grows tired of the whores my brother or you send to his bed; I fear Lady Sansa will soon become a target again... you may want to find ways to keep him _far_ away from her.” 

With that, Queen Margaery excused herself, saying the King would be looking for her and it would not due to be found within Lord Petyr’s private solar and once she had firmly shut his door... he found himself wanting to throw something violently at a wall as the information swirled through his mind. Olenna, Margaery and himself had done well at keeping Joffrey occupied, either with Margaery or one of Baelish’s whores, all agreeing it would do no good for Joffrey to be pawing or stalking Lady Sansa... Margaery did not enjoy competition, even if the other girl would rather throw herself out of the tallest window in the Red Keep than steal the King, nor did Petyr want _anyone_ touching his wife... Lady Sansa was his alone and he would the one to take his wife’s maidenhead... not some volatile, mad, boy King! 

*****

Robb watched his wife softly rocking their son, Edd, as they had come to affectionally call the chubby, red cheeked boy... he was the most well-behaved child Robb had ever encountered and he often found himself holding the boy close as he walked through the walls of Winterfell or outside in the snow which Edd loved; he had a head full of brown curls, the shade of Roslin’s and his eyes were the oddest shade of blue-grey, but they were wide like Roslin’s and he had the chubbiest legs and arms that he and Roslin adored. It was not often you saw Roslin without Edd on her hip, his wife was fiercely protective of her pup and did not trust many with his care... Robb had given up being King of the North for his wife and son; Roslin had cried when she told him that she was pregnant, her brown eyes filled with fat tears and he had been quick to wrap her in his protective arms as she begged him to let them just go home... to Winterfell, where the babe would be safe, and Robb would not have to fight anymore battles. 

Robb had married Roslin out of duty, he first thought her rather plain, but as they grew to know one another and once they’d arrived back in Winterfell, he’d come to love her and found her to be utterly beautiful... with her waist length soft, brown waves and her wide brown eyes that only ever looked upon him with love, she was dainty and soft-spoken, but could be fierce when she felt it necessary; she was also the mother of his child and future children, Robb found it was hard to _not_ love his little wife.

Even with all this happiness that surrounded him, a healthy babe, happy wife, loyal people... Robb still found himself aching for those they’d lost in such a short period of time, father was cruelly murdered, and Sansa left with the Lannister, only to be married off to Petyr Baelish whilst Arya remained missing... there had not been a single whisper of his youngest sister since the day Joffrey killed their father and he often awoke with nightmares of his baby sister, alone and cold somewhere. Mother still cried daily and would often break down, begging him to send someone to save Sansa, but both knew that it could never happen... they had said goodbye to Sansa almost three years ago and both knew they would likely never see her again; Robb vowed to name his first daughter Sansa, a way to honor his sister who he would never again see... she would always be an innocent eleven-year-old girl with braided red hair, an affinity for sky blue dresses and a love for being a proper lady. 

“It seems someone wants to see their papa!” Robb snapped out of his revere at the soft voice of his wife, Edd reaching out towards Robb who smiled and swiftly lifted Edd into his arms and into the air, his baby laughter echoing throughout the great room and caused servants and family alike to laugh and awe at their little lord. 

“That dress looks beautiful on you Ros.” Robb leaned down to kiss his blushing wife, she’d worn a pink gown of cotton and a smoky grey, fur lined cloak to keep away any chill... Roslin enjoyed dressing in light colors that stood out amongst the white and grey landscape of the North after being forced into drab gowns her whole life as the grand-daughter of Walder Frey. 

“You look handsome as well husband, it is still so funny how red your beard grows.” Roslin’s dainty fingers ran through his thick beard, the thing a much brighter red than the auburn curls atop his head, Roslin adored the beard and would often clench at it whenever they were alone together in bed. 

“Ha, I keep it only for you my little wife... since you seem to enjoy it so much!” Robb wiggled his brows in a naughty manner which made Roslin laugh before lightly smacking his chest before she began to fret over Edd who suddenly sneezed, Robb laughed at the adorable sound which made Edd look up at his pap and give him a gummy smile whilst Roslin ran a hand through the babe's curls.

Robb had lost so much in such a short time, but as he looked down at his pretty wife and handsome son, he also realized how much he had gained... he was a man now, married and with a child as he ran a Keep and his stomach turned in confusion as he wondered; would he give his small, but perfect family up, if it meant he could have father, Sansa and Arya back? He found he did not know the answer and frankly, it made his stomach clench uncomfortably as he drew Roslin into his side and kissed the crown of her hair as they began to afternoon stroll towards the Godswood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two. pov from sansa, petyr and robb.  
> Pinterest Board: https://www.pinterest.com/AinsleighLeigh/burning-the-world/

**Author's Note:**

> the start of something great. enjoy. <3


End file.
